We'll Have A Good Life
by niver
Summary: There is a problem here, lodged in the nonexistant distance of their hearts. Charles forgets, and Erik doesn't want him to remember. /Charles/Erik/ /First Class/ /pre-Beach/ /oneshot/


**We'll Have A Good Life**

Charles stood at the window, detachedly humming along to the music Alex was playing upstairs and watching Sean and Hank out on the grounds wrestle playfully. The sense of camaraderie, of family, of love had formed quickly in their small group. For this he was thankful, because together united they stood a better chance of changing the world. A world that did not want to be changed, perhaps, but people did have a nasty habit of wanting what wouldn't do them good.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Erik made no noise as he walked, a silent spirit in a house full of life, but Charles didn't startle. Instead he smiled smally as he felt Erik's warm heat at his side, a little too close for what was socially acceptable. Neither of them commented on it, nobody did - one of the many positive things about a new evolution was that it brought with it a stronger sense of acceptance. Charles accepted this easily, more easily than he accepted most things in his life, almost as easily as he had accepted that strange gift he had one day realized he owned. One that he knew fascinated and made wary Erik in turns.

"How sorry I feel for everyone who needs to _ask_." Charles teased, leaning in to Erik slightly - far, far too close, their bodies actually touching now, arms brushing and feet tapping against each other. Erik didn't move away. Charles smiled wider.

"Braggart." Erik's tone was flat, almost menacing, but Charles didn't need to dip into his thoughts to know that Erik was teasing as well. Erik was one of the few (only) people where Charles' reliance on studying the mind hadn't clouded his ability to read the face, and it had grown so that he no longer even needed to see that (handsome) face to do so. Yes, Charles knew Erik well, so he knew that beneath Erik's intended teasing there was a slight darkness; Erik was something of an egotist, and even if they hadn't been so close Charles liked to think he would recognize part of himself in this man. The dark irony appealed to both of them, so they shared a slight smirk. "You can't even do this."

_This_ was Erik using the the decorative metal bands around the curtain tassells to close the curtains, heavy fabric blocking Hank and Sean from view. Blocking Charles and Erik from their view in turn. "Very impressive. Do you think you could also turn down that far too loud popular music? I like the Beatles as much as the next groovy Englishman but I'm getting a headache." Erik didn't say anything, and maybe ghosted a hand along the nape of Charles' neck as he directed his power through a floor, turning down the metallic knob of the radio. There was a slight frisson in the air and Charles shivered, knowing intellectually that he couldn't really feel Erik's power, just Erik.

"Hey!" Alex shouted upstairs as the music faded, and Charles laughed freely along with a more reserved Erik. He could feel Erik shift, ready to speak - for such a stoic man physical preparation was needed to communicate in more than gestures - but Charles held up a hand. That hand then drifted to his temple, and he focused on Alex's thoughts unerringly. They were quite rude, and Charles liked to think that he had heard it all but prison clearly taught people quite a few words that Charles wasn't even aware _could_ exist.

"Now why would you think something so rude about a telepath?" Charles asked, finally turning to look at Erik. There wasn't anything to see out the window anyway. Erik's lips quirked. Unlike Charles, who started smiling and kept at it for an unbroken period of charming good-naturedness as he had been raised, Erik's smiles had to be beckoned out one by one and didn't last long. Already this one was fading, so Charles worked to keep it, frowning like a petulant child. Erik's smile grew.

"Perhaps he wanted you to hear." Erik leaned in, and now their bodies were more than a brush, fully pressed against each other on one side, their other halves slowly gravitating in as well. Charles raised his eyebrows in faux disbelief and now Erik was chuckling quietly. "Sometimes, thoughts can express themselves better than words ever can."

"I wouldn't call his thoughts eloquent." Charles murmured, because loud voices hardly seemed to have a place in the tiny space between them. "But why don't you show me an example, O Wise Man?" Erik tilted his head, considering.

_You are the first person I have let close since my unwilling rebirth. I rely on you to be there. I cannot imagine a life without you by my side. _

The thoughts were rushed, tumbling over each other and folding in half and doubling back, but long practice had taught Charles how to follow them. They were so at contrast with Erik's calm face that he almost wondered if this was really what Erik is thinking, almost wondered if years of mental manipulation had allowed him to fake a conversation in his own gray matter. It was only an almost though, because the words were emphasized, verified, by Erik's hand once again drifting to the nape of his neck. That miniscule space between them vanished and Charles sighed into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut. They closed in time to the faintest thought, hidden away normally but peeking out now like a child around its mother's legs:

_I love you._

Charles pulled back from the kiss, not willingly but out of a necessity. Erik gazed at him with darkened eyes, and Charles still had a foot in his head and could feel the slight anxiety, almost fear. Charles knew that those kind of declarations were always when people were at their most vulnerable, and Erik hated to be vulnerable. So Charles soothed him, squeezing his hip gently. "I love you too." There was the slightest exhale of relief, but not out loud, like the breath needed to blow out candles on a cake. Charles kissed him again, and Erik kissed back.

At that moment, Charles could only be thankful that Hank and Sean were outside, and Alex had turned his music up again too-loud _(if you should lose me, you lose a good thing)_ and Raven had made herself scarce as was per usual these days. The fire of how much he _wanted_ the man he (supposedly) already had was probably visible from space, let alone people standing nearby. Now though, with just them, Charles could hand himself over to that want for the time being, setting aside global wars and genetic politics. It was just him, and Erik, and the echo of _I love you_ trembling between their not-close-enough bodies. Charles knew then and there that Erik was right: they could never live a life without each other; Charles couldn't even imagine one without this fire of want to colour an otherwise drab world.

Problem was (and Charles couldn't spare a thought for that problem right now) that he was right as well: people had a nasty habit of wanting what wouldn't do them good.

**fin**

**thoughts? ****and the song is "You'll Lose a Good Thing" by Barbara Lynn.**


End file.
